Corruption
by madelinesticks
Summary: Commissioned by ChefHector (Tumblr). Will discovers Hannibal's secret. He doesn't have the strength to pull away.


Will liked his life with Hannibal. The process of moving in together had been slow, and it had taken a lot of convincing to get Hannibal to grudgingly allow Will's dogs into his home. Will felt more secure sleeping in the same bed as the doctor, being able to reach out and touch him if the nightmares were too bad.

Hannibal offered comfort Will had never really had. He'd always lived alone and, really, had always wanted to. Hannibal made him feel better about everything.

Alana had thrown a fit when she'd found out, but slowly, she came around to it, mostly for the sake of Will's more relaxed state. Jack had been furious too, but he'd had to stand down when Hannibal had quietly asked if his anger came from no longer having Will quite so firmly under his own thumb. Alana had giggled. Jack had backed down.

Hannibal could make Will beam with a meal, a smile of his own, or just an offer of a hand for Will to lean into. Will didn't much like to be touched without warning, but when it was Hannibal it added an element of security.

More importantly, he could make Hannibal smile too. Will liked seeing Hannibal smile. His dogs even adored Hannibal, though the rule was they weren't allowed into the bedrooms and had to remain split between the dining room, the kitchen and the living room. It was perfect. It was absolutely perfect.

—-

Will had been sleepwalking. He often ame to Hannibal when he sleepwalked - it was instinct, he supposed, a need to be where he felt most secure. So when his eyes opened and he saw Hannibal with a knife in his hand, blood dripping onto his hand from the blade. Will gave a choked little sound, swaying on his feet and staring at his partner with wide eyes.

Hannibal set down the knife and picked up a piece of cloth, wiping the thick red from his hand.

"Hannibal." It came out high and choked and half-whispered, and Will's thighs were shaking so hard he thought he might fall. Hannibal moved forwards, carefully pushing Will backwards to settle in a seat.

"Hush, Will, it's alright. Stay there a moment." Will did. He couldn't do anything more, just frozen with his eyes wide as he watched Hannibal drag the body from the room. Where were they? How long had Hannibal been doing this? He stared at the plastic suit that covered Hannibal's body, shielding him from blood and everything else. That was a Hell of a lot of premeditation.

He thought about the gun on his side of the bed, in the bedside table. Could he arrest Hannibal? Could he shoot him? Will was shaking all over now, unable to stop himself from quivering. "Will." Will jolted out of his own thoughts, moving to stare up at Hannibal. He felt shot full of adrenalin, fuck, he wanted to cry. Would Hannibal even care if he cried? Had Hannibal not cared all along?

Hannibal took out his phone, and sent a text. He led Will to the car and let Will slide into the passenger seat. Will didn't feel the cold too badly usually, but now he felt absolutely freezing.

"Who did you text?" Will asked, the sound coming out odd and awkward and hoarser than his voice usually did.

"My butcher." Hannibal said cleanly. Will whimpered. "I was very nearly finished when you arrived, Will. Sleepwalking?"

"Yeah." Hannibal inclined his head. Will gave a soft sob. Hannibal didn't stop Will from crying. He let him be, and when they got to the house he half-carried Will into the house. Will couldn't stop himself from going limp against Hannibal, letting the larger man support him.

Hannibal stripped off his clothes like Will was a doll, and when he was naked himself Hannibal lowered them into a hot bath. Will gave a soft sound at the feel of the too-hot water on his freezing skin, pressing back against Hannibal.

"What are we going to do?" Hannibal asked, beginning to carefully wash over Will's skin as he always did when they shared a bath together.

"I don't know." Will said quietly. He was taken aback by how broken his own voice sounded, and distracted by how his glasses had fogged up with steam. He took them off, setting them on the side and pressing more closely to Hannibal. He began to cling to Hannibal, holding the good doctor tightly.

That night, if Hannibal pulled away in the slightest, Will dug his nails into the other's skin, desperate. "Don't leave me." Will begged when Hannibal let Will slip into bed and moved to leave himself. Hannibal watched him. Hannibal slipped into bed alongside him, pulling Will close and letting the smaller man hold him tightly.

Will seemed to have wrapped all of his limbs around Hannibal.

It was endearing, sweetly so, in a way. He knew Will needed him, he'd always known Will needed him, but this? This was positively delectable. Hannibal felt powerful as he stroked Will's back soothingly, more powerful than he had in a long while. Hannibal grinned against Will's forehead, pressing a kiss there and feeling Will relax. "Are you going to arrest me in the morning, Will?"

"No." Will whispered vehemently, grabbing at Hannibal's shoulders and holding him tightly there. "No." He repeated, tone breathy. "No, Hannibal, I can't- I can't- I need you to- to be- here."

"I understand." Hannibal purred into Will's ear, pressing another kiss just above it. "I can be here." Will began to shake again, and Hannibal curled his lip a little, worrying that the cold had made him ill. It passed, though, and Will went still on Hannibal's chest. He was sleeping, and Hannibal watched him for a little while before he slept himself.

Will would not arrest him, and Will would not shoot him. Will needed him too much for that.

"I can't be broken and alone again." Will murmured in a very soft tone the next morning, when light streamed through the windows and warmed his back. "I can be broken here, but I don't have to be alone."

"I understand." Hannibal nodded, carding a hand through Will's hair. "You do not have to be alone, Will."

—-

For Will, Hannibal was marginally less careful. One evening, he came home with spots of blood still spattered on his cheek, and Will stared, but made no attempt to complain. He pressed against Hannibal that evening anyway, wanting the comfort of his touch.

When Hannibal cut up lungs that night, Will watched. He seemed fascinated by the quick, skilful movements of the knife in Hannibal's hand, of how easily Hannibal cut them into pieces.

"Who was it?" Will asked. Hannibal didn't tell him, and Will nodded to himself. Perhaps it was better he didn't know. Hannibal was somehow more of a comfort at crime scenes now. Will wasn't exactly certain why that was, but it was helpful, at least.

That night they talked about the most recent case over dinner.

Will enjoyed the meal more than he felt was right.

—-

Will's hand was shaking where it hadn't been a moment before. The knife felt oddly heavy in his hand, and even the blood dripping from the blade and over the back of his hand felt too wet, too slick, too bloody.

He stared at her corpse. She'd stopped moving, now, where moments before she'd been racked in throes as blood poured from her open throat, soaking into her white blouse and staining the fabric, soaking the floor in a rapidly widening pool.

He took in a heavy inhalation, breaths coming in and filling his lungs raggedly. He nearly dropped the knife as he stared at her eyes. They were so… Dead.

A hand came to his shoulder, gentle, and Hannibal stepped closer so his chest was close to his back. "That was very good, Will. Perfect." The praise made something in Will, that animalistic part of him that let him kill this woman, puff up with pride. Will couldn't help but smile a little, and he felt euphoric even as he stared down at the woman, dead and bloodied on the ground. "How did it feel?"

"Good." Will mumbled, leaning back against Hannibal's chest. He felt hot and cold all at once, pumped full of adrenalin and sick pride and excitement. "Glorious." Hannibal grinned, leaning closer and pressing a kiss to Will's neck in a fit of possession and a need to show his triumph. What a perfectly delicious corruption.

"Good." Hannibal murmured against the skin. "That's perfect, Will."


End file.
